


Lessons In Love

by TheMagicMicrobus (CallMeCaptainOrSir)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 1980s, AU prompt, Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Character's name spelled as Yuuri, Dom Katsuki Yuuri, Don't Think There Will Be Any Sexy Times, Drug Addiction, Everyone Is Gay, F/M, Glam Rock, Historical AU, I Actually Pulled Back, M/M, Queer Youth, Romance, Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll, So Much Drugs, Stardom, Sunset Strip, They Couldn't Avoid It, Victuuri Week, Victuuri Week 2017, Viktor is extra, bartender yuuri, but we'll see, singer Viktor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-23 01:36:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9634994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallMeCaptainOrSir/pseuds/TheMagicMicrobus
Summary: Blackout Vogue is just one of the hopeful little bands featured on the stages of the Sunset Strip. But not all of them have Vikor Nikiforov as their lead singer. Enter Katsuki Yuuri, a beautiful bartender with a hidden past. Can the two of them survive the whirl of sex, drugs and rock and roll that is 1982 on the most infamous street in LA?





	

**Author's Note:**

> My entry for Victuuri week, day 2! I'm counting the 80s as historical, I know, that makes me seem really young.
> 
> Another multi chap fic because I got way too into this AU. I’ll also do my best to keep this up regularly.
> 
> Unbeta'd, so any mistakes are my own.

The room always had a certain feel to about. The air too heavy with smoke and expectations. The heads too light, people drunk on their youth and their anonymity under the hazy lights. The music was too loud, and only just good enough to dance to if you were blackout drunk. Nearly everyone was dancing. Standing in the middle of the crowd, writhing to some song that may as well have not had any lyrics, Viktor had never felt more alone or more at home. It was refreshing to know that about five people would actually remember his presence, but it was almost enough to make him question if he actually existed.

Nope, the nerves were real. That made him, by extension, real. _No matter how many times I do this… It doesn’t get easier. I guess if it did that would mean it’s time to stop._

Everyone dealt with their nerves differently. Chris, he knew, would be in some bathroom or bedroom with some attractive body, trying to lose himself until they went on. Yurio would be out back, avoiding it all, probably burning through a whole pack of smokes. _Shouldn’t let the kid do that...he’s only, what, 17? 18? Actually, maybe I should join him. Either of them._ Viktor extracted himself from the crowd, weaving through sweaty limbs to the bar. It was only 12:00, but his feet were already starting to kill. Someone slid ( _fell?_ ) off their bar stool and he slid onto his gratefully. Viktor kicked off his heels and waved over the bartender. _If everyone else gets to go on drunk, why can’t I?_

“What can I get you?” _He’s polite. Actually polite._ Viktor glanced up from where he had been inspecting his nail polish. It got chipped every time he painted them, but, boy if it didn’t look good. It was worth it.

The bartender looked miserable. Viktor wished he stuck with looking at his nails. The pink was much happier. He wasn’t frowning, and his tone was light, but he just looked… sad. Something about his eyes, deep and dark in a way that pulled Viktor in and scared him in equal parts. He wanted to reach out and smooth out the crease in between them.

“Hey. Can I get you anything?” His voice was sharper this time, but still nicer than anything the silver haired man had heard in a long time.

“I’ll have two of whatever you wish you were having,” Viktor shouted over the music. Hope my accent isn’t too thick. _Hope I don’t make grumpier._ For some reason, that idea disturbed him more than he thought it should.

Luckily, the man’s lips quirked into a not-quite-smile. He slid around the bar, disappearing from sight. Minutes later, he returned with a tall glass in each hand. Viktor held back a frown at the bright green color of the liquid inside.

“Called a japanese slipper. Two might knock you over through.”

“Hah, I’m Russian, I can hold my liquor,” He allowed his accent to thicken comically. Viktor grabbed the glass and took a large sip. He nearly spat is back out. “Dear God, you drink that?”

The bartender’s smirk grew to possibly-counted-as-a-smile. Viktor took another sip, smaller this time. It actually wasn’t bad, once you got over the near rubbing alcohol burn of it and the color, it was actually quite sweet.

“Eh, it grows on you.” The bartender shrugged, turning away from him.

“Wait!” His hand shot out and caught his elbow. The man in black spun around, calmly pulling free. “Sorry, just...what’s your name?”

He hesitated. _Please answer._ “Yuuri. Katsuki Yuuri.”

A grin broke across the silver haired man’s face. As his lips parted to speak, a voice over the speakers cut through the noise of the crowd.

“This will be our last song! You’ve been great for us, keep it up for Blackout Vogue! With my favorite frontman, Viktor Nikiforov!”

He sighed, “Guess that’s me. Hey, do you have a pen on you?”

Yuuri pulled one of out of his pocket, offering it to him.

“Thanks, hang on.” Viktor scribbled something on his napkin. Shoving his feet back into his heels, he fled across the floor, his heart pounding.

By the time he made it backstage, Yurio and Chris were already there. Viktor felt like he had run a mile to get there. Yurio simply looked him over and walked away. Chris passed him his guitar, and grinned cheekily.

“Who’s it this time?”

“What?”

Chris rolled his absurdly green eyes, “Which poor little boy has become the object of your fixation this time?”

A flush crept up Viktor neck. “No one! And I don’t fixate!”

“Sure.”

The bassist slunk away, probably to find the remaining member of their band, before he could get in a retort. _No fair._

The noise from past the curtains peaked, and the opening guys jogged off. _I think they’ve opened for us before. I should really know their names._ On of them, a little guy with bright yellow hair, clapped him on the shoulder.

“Good luck! Have fun Viktor!” he called as he vanished into the bowels Club 46. _Yeah I should know his name._

He pushed his hair out his face, letting his shoulders drop. It didn’t work to go on tense. He might fall off the stage. _Wouldn’t that be a show?_ Yurio would never let him forget it. He could hear the others as they took their places on the dark stage.

_Count to three._

Chris struck a chord, his reverb turned almost as high as his volume. The room shook.

_One._

Yurio’s drums came in loud and fast. Otabek was right on his heels. Let no one tell you that bassist was the calmest in the band. You could almost feel his intensity through the curtains.

_Two._

Viktor bounced on his toes, taking a deep breath.

_Three._

He ran out onto the stage, his steps sure and powerful. And Viktor stopped thinking.

…

Yuuri found himself watching. That in and of itself was an oddity. The fact that he couldn’t pull his eyes alway made him that that something was seriously wrong. _Maybe I’m sick._ He leaned against the bar as his eyes followed Viktor across the stage. There was just something about him. His silver hair flashed in the colored lights as he whipped his head about. It reminded Yuuri a little of a wild horse, something powerful and carefree.

That voice, god that voice. His range was incredible, soaring one moment and dragging you through gravel another. It was nearly painful to listen to. Viktor clearly took care of it. He’d heard of them before, Blackout Vogue, which meant that they’d been around a while. To keep that up, he must have avoided the abuse that others put their bodies through. Oh, Yuuri knew all about that.

He also knew that Viktor wasn’t drunk. Not at all. He’d had barely a sip of his drink, but he still moved with a wild, reckless abandon. He flung his thin body across the stage like no one was watching him. The guitarist slunk over to him, grinding against his hip. Viktor only turned to throw a sultry smirk over his shoulder. From where Yuuri was standing, he couldn’t quite make out what passed between them, but he certainly saw what came next. Viktor’s head turned mid lyric, his lips finding the guitarists.

It was obscene, even at a distance. And Yuuri had seen people going at it on the lawn up the street. Their eyes slid shut, but neither stopped playing, their fingers dancing along the strings. The microphone picked up a breathy groan, from who he couldn’t tell. The crowd lost their collective mind.

After what felt like an eternity they pulled apart. The guitarist leaned in on Viktor’s mic, joining in for the chorus.

“All night, every time.” Viktor went high, clear and strong. It was the perfect mix with the guitarists low croon. “I fall for you, I’m falling for you.”

…

By the time their set was over it was nearly one in the morning. Yuuri’s shift had ended, but he found himself staying anyway. He didn’t want to just walk away, not after that show. Not after that cryptic note. But then Viktor’s silver hair caught his attention as the man cut his way to the bar, and Yuuri ran.

…

The air outside hit him like a solid wall of heat and humidity. Viktor glanced up the street. _Where is he? Did I scare him off? Damn it, Chris makes this look so easy! Why did he have to wear all black?_

 _Fuck it._ “Yuuri!”

Someone about a block up froze. Passing headlights caught his face and Viktor grinned. Moving add quickly as he could, the singer jogged over to the smaller man.

“Viktor.” Yuuri’s blinked in surprise, eyes magnified hugely by his glasses.

He leaned in close, pushing those glasses away. The bartender stood perfectly still, like frightened deer. Yuuri watched in rapture as a massive grin split his face. Viktor was so incredibly expressive. It was almost ridiculous how easily he could read him.

Then the smile fell from his lips and his face crumpled into a look of utter disappointment. It was like a little kid being told, no, he couldn't have a puppy. Yuuri wanted to punch whoever made him look like that, and then give him that puppy.

“Yuuuuuri, if you liked it, why did you run away?”

“Wha- how did you know I liked it?” _Damn, now I have to punch myself._

Viktor reached forward and pressed a finger to the bridge of Yuuri's nose. He scrunched it up, squinting to see what the singer was doing.

“That. You always have these little frowny lines, but they weren't there when I was singing.”

“You were watching me?” Yuuri's voice jumped an octave.

“Of course!”

“You seemed pretty engaged with that guitarists.” _That sounded more bitter than I intended._

“Chris?” Viktor laughed. “Is that why you ran? He's just a friend, stagecraft and all that.”

“I-I know that!”

“Okay, so, would you mind it if I asked when I could see you again?”

“Oh.”

_I hope I didn't push to fast. He's the most skittish person I've ever met on the strip. Anyone else would have dragged me into some bathroom by now._

_Maybe that's why I care._

“You don't have to. I didn't mea-”

“Tomorrow night.” Yuuri tipped his head back and blue eyes met black. “I'll be here tomorrow at 11:00.”

A small smile touched his lips. Then he was slipping away through the hazy darkness and Viktor was alone again.


End file.
